Remember When You Were A Madman?
by Better-Angels
Summary: "Y'see, the trouble with people is, they can get in your head... And he got in your head. He's, like, screwed with your mind... And the trouble is, I don't know if you can fix that. Scars on your face don't last as long as scars in your mind, sugar." Title is line from a My Chemical Romance song. Review please!
1. A Bank Meeting

Chapter 1- The Bank Meeting

BANG!

Terrified screams.

Three men ran into the bank, wielding guns. The people hid under their desks and behind counters.

"Nobody fucking move!" Yelled one of the men, as the shorter man grabbed wads of cash from behind the counters.

A man walked in, a shotgun casually in one hand, whistling "Singing in the Rain" loudly and crudely.

The masked gunmen acknowledged him.

"Now!" He said, pushing his green dyed hair back with one gloved hand. "Who's gonna tell me the code to the vault? Hmm?"

Silence, apart from a woman sobbing in terror behind her desk.

"Will it be you?" He suddenly pointed his shotgun at a man. The man trembled. "No..."

The Joker walked on through the desks.

"How 'bout you?" He pressed the end of the gun against a woman's neck, lifting her chin up so she looked at him. "You know it?"

"No..." The woman whispered, her voice cracking.

"What was that?" The Joker bent down, flicking his tongue across his scars.

The woman repeated her reply, louder.

"Didn't think so..." He giggled and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed around the high-ceilinged bank, followed by the frightened gasps and muffled screams of people.

The Joker kept walking, holding the shotgun behind his shoulders with both hands.

"Does nobody know the code to the vault in here?!" He roared.

"I do." A voice said.

The Joker spun around, looking for the source of the voice.

"Up here, clown." The voice said coolly.

His eyes shot up to the giant stained glass window at the front of the bank. On the huge windowsill stood a figure in black.

A grappling hook was fired and the figure dropped down onto the marble floor.

The Joker stood and watched the person walk forward.

Once they came to a stop in front of him, they pulled off their hat (an eye mask still remaining) and shook out a mane of long wavy hair, the colour of dark chocolate.

He raised his eyebrows and looked the woman up and down obviously.

"My, my. Aren't you pretty?"

"That isn't all I am." She said and grabbed onto the shotgun in his hands and hit him in the face with it.

He reeled back in surprise, laughing and wiping a drop of blood from his nose.

"Alright! You got fight in ya too! I like that a lot..."

He gave a short whistle, and the three men came running at the woman.

Quick as a flash, a knife was in her gloved hand. Within seconds, one of the men had his throat slit, one was bleeding out from his stomach, and the other was lying on the ground, the woman's high heeled leather boot resting on his chest.

She looked up at the Joker and flicked her hair.

He looked both impressed and furious.

Police sirens wailed close by.

"I suggest you get out of here before the cops get through my barricade." The woman said, one eyebrow raised nonchalantly.

"What are you gonna do with all that money? Buy yourself a nice new dress, huh?"

"I promised it to some people. And the rest I'll either burn or give away."

The Joker strode over to her and stood very close. "This... isn't... over." He said in a low voice.

"I'm glad it's not." She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow.

More sirens wailed outside; Casey looked over her shoulder to check the door. When she looked back the Joker had disappeared.

"Alright, punk? Who are you?" Casey muttered as she typed in the Joker's name into her laptop. Well, it wasn't hers. She'd stolen it from the bank, along with the cash and the only one of the Joker's henchmen she'd left alive.

Casey was sitting in an old abandoned hotel on the outskirts of Gotham. It was where she stayed most of the time.

She scrolled through news articles about the Joker. Casey clicked on a video of him walking into a different bank, gun in hand, watching it over and over. She wondered what his face looked like under that makeup; would he be handsome? She shoved that thought away as fast as she could.

Her phone buzzed with a call. She answered in a fake business-like voice, "This is Casey Williams. How may I be of assistance?"

"Casey, get your ass down to the Shut Down nightclub Friday night and put out the light. If you don't, he's coming for you." A gruff voice at the other end.

"Got it." She sniggered, throwing the phone across the room.

Friday night came; Casey got dressed up in her favourite colour, red. She was relieved she didn't have to wear her mask this time. She jumped on her motorbike and drove to the club.

Bass beats of music pounded her eardrums from the minute she reached the door. There was a long queue of people. She grinned as she looked up the line of faces, each one more drunk than the last. In a hour or two, they'd all be dead.

Casey walked past them all, to the front of the queue. The bouncer looked at her, recognised her and let her in, ignoring the drunken complaints of the rest of the people.

She walked through the people to reach the bar. She'd been sitting there for ten minutes when a man sat on the high stool beside her.

He ordered a drink quietly then sat with it, turned around the face the rest of the club, as Casey was.

"So nice to see you again. You look gorgeous tonight." He said quietly.

She looked over and immediately recognised the purple coat.

"Dammit! What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

She scowled.

He grinned.

Casey downed her drink of Scotch and stormed off, leaving him staring at her back.

She walked up to the VIP section and looked up at the tall man with sunglasses standing guard at the velvet ropes.

"Hey Vinnie. Listen, Tony's expecting me so I should really-"

"No problem, doll." He said, pulling back the curtain for her.

"Thanks." She smiled and winked quickly.

The VIP section was dark and seedy looking, the walls and floor a dark purple colour. Cigarette smoke clouded the air, mixed with the smell of alcohol and sweat.

Casey took on the persona of a seductive woman, who would do anything to please.

Men sat in the corners of booths, a cigarette in one hand and a barely clothed woman in the other.

The sounds of the women's incessant giggling made Casey's jaw tense. She tried to ignore it and walked to the back, where she knew Tony Vincenzo would be.

This man had held old debts over her for too long. He punished her in the most demeaning ways he could, humiliating her in front of men she would've otherwise hoped to have worked with. But those men would never take her seriously if the only thing they saw her as was a piece of ass.

"Hi Tony."

"Ah, Casey. Great to see you, doll. Come on, sit down!"

She sat on the leather beside him and he instantly pulled her onto his lap.

"Now, now Tony, aren't we being professional tonight?" Casey said, a fixed smile on her face as she repressed the urge to strangle him.

"No way, Case. I want you..." He stroked her neck slowly.

Many years ago, Casey would've melted at hearing him say that. When she'd first arrived in Gotham with nothing except for a dwindling sanity, Tony had bought her a drink. That was how it had all started; the late nights, the booze, the endless humiliation...

She'd wanted to kill him for so long; she imagined the light leaving his eyes when he took his final breath, it sent shivers of excitement down her back.

"Let's go to my suite." He said in a tone which indicated that this was not a friendly suggestion, but an order.

"One second, sweetie. I just have to go powder my nose." She got up.

"Alright. I'll be waiting with some champagne and the camera. The boys will enjoy watching your little show."

Casey smiled, "Can't wait."

Her smile disappeared the second she left the VIP section. She looked straight across at the stool the Joker had been sitting on but he had gone.

She tried to push him out of her mind and made her way up to the roof, checking the wires as she went.

Casey pushed open the double doors to the roof and stepped out. The cold air hit her and the wind whipped her hair and dress up around her. She gasped and started laughing hysterically.

"Hello there, beautiful."

A voice made her turn.

The Joker stood there, remote control in hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here? This is my job."

"I simply wanted to assist." His tongue flicked out of his mouth again, faking innocence.

"I don't need your assistance."

"I help make it more fun though." He grinned, juggling the remote carelessly between his hands.

"Trust me, this is gonna be fun enough without you."

"Why?" He said slowly, taking a step closer, tilting his head and pouting. "You got somethin' against some people in this club, hmm?"

She nodded.

"Vincenzo, aahh. Smug little bastard... I understand perrfectly." He held the remote out to her.

She reached for it and at the last second, he pulled it back.

"Wait wait wait!"

She glared and advanced on him.

He backed off, hands up. "It'll be more fun if we do it my way!"

"I will throw you off this fucking roof if you don't give me that remote."

"Will you, though?" He raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands a little.

"Of course I will. I'm a woman of my word." She jumped up and grabbed the hand which held the remote but the Joker pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffed their hands together. He tossed the remote into his other hand and held it out of her reach.

Casey stood speechless for a couple of seconds, looking from the handcuffs to him, and the remote.

"My way."

She was still incapable of speech.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Come on, woman, let's get out of here!"

He dragged her down the stairs and eventually out of the building, avoiding the VIPs.

They stumbled out onto the street.

"You ready?" He held the remote between them.

Casey found her voice at last, "Always."

"You can do the honours."

"Both."

She placed her thumb on the green button and his placed his on top of hers. Together they pushed. It started slowly, a faint humming sound beginning from inside the building; then it all came at once. The sounds of explosions rent the still air.

The building started to crumble, its supports giving way. People's screams split through the dull explosions and cracks, but with so many people all trying to leave at once, and with all but one exit sealed, they were stuck.

Both Casey and the Joker laughed as the building collapsed in front of them, rubble and shards of glass flying everywhere. Suddenly there was another sharp explosion and Joker cards rained down upon them, flying everywhere through the air. Casey cheered and jumped up and down.

He turned to her suddenly, amidst the carnage and their amusement.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"What?!" She yelled back.

He repeated the question, closer to her ear.

"Casey!" She replied.

"Beautiful!" He exclaimed.

"What's yours? Your real name!?"

Police sirens grew louder and a helicopter flew over their heads, the searchlight focusing down on them. Walkie talkie sounds buzzed down to them.

He hesitated for a second.

"...Call me Jack."


	2. Sweet as Sugar

Chapter 2- Sweet as Sugar

"We should go." Casey said quietly as police cars and firetrucks sped up the street towards them.

"Now that's an idea."

He tossed the remote over his shoulder and followed her down an alleyway.

"There they are!" Voices of policemen shouted.

"Shit!" Casey hissed as the policemen came towards them with guns.

"Run?"

"Run!"

They sprinted away down twisting and turning alleys as fast as they could. They both knew the city well so it wasn't too much of a struggle. Suddenly Casey pulled him into a narrow space between two apartment blocks.

"Why did ya-"

She put her hand over Jack's mouth to shut him up and held a finger to her lips.

The police ran past, completely missing them. She slowly let her hands return to her sides.

They both breathed heavily for a couple of seconds.

"So you wanna get a drink?" Casey asked casually.

"So... tell me about yourself, sugar."

Casey raised an eyebrow, "Sugar?"

"Yeah, 'cause y'know you're such a sweet, caring person." Jack said with a wide grin.

She chuckled, "I am, aren't I?"

She swirled her Scotch around the bottom of her glass.

"There's not much to tell really... I grew up just outside of Gotham in some shitty little apartment with my mom. Things started to go... to hell, so I caught a train into the city. Found myself in a bar one night, when Tony Vincenzo turns up and buys me a drink. Next thing I know I'm doing weekly Friday night shows at the Sweet Kitten."

"That was you?!" He almost choked on his drink.

"You were a fan?" She looked sideways at him, smirking.

He loosened the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, clearing his throat and laughing nervously. "Me? I, uh... No, of course not..."

Casey knocked back the rest of her drink and slammed the glass down on the table, the handcuffs dangling from her wrist.

Both of them were sat with their feet up, in a corner leather booth of a dark, dusty bar on the outskirts of Gotham. It was near to the abandoned hotel Casey called home.

"Soon enough though, Tony realised I knew my way around a weapon when some guys jumped us in the street. They all got their heads blown off and I got a promotion. Recently, I've started being a little more independent in my work."

"That is alllways more fun." He smirked.

"I have a question." She said as she splashed out another drink for herself.

"Shoot." He leant forward, tapping his own glass. "Not literally." He added quickly, remembering the gun in her bag.

Casey poured the Scotch into his glass, the melting ice cubes sliding over each other. "What do you look like without that makeup on?"

"I've got..." Jack picked up his glass, while moving his hands upwards from the sides of his mouth. She wondered how he managed not to spill his drink. "these scars."

"I know that. You're always tellin' people how you got 'em."

He shrugged his shoulders a little awkwardly. "Well... yeah."

Casey leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Take off the makeup, Jack."

"Take off those clothes and maybe I will." He shot back, taking a long drink.

"You wanna get out of here?"

He tried not to choke on the drink. Again.

"Sure."

"Great." She picked up the now empty bottle and walked to the bar.

Jack sat back and ran his hands through his wild hair. He hadn't been expecting this.

His alcohol addled mind spun with longings and worries. Sure, she was attractive but did he trust himself to not lose it? The last time hadn't ended well.

He saw his hands covered with someone else's blood, screaming at the sky, trying to make the pain end but it just kept coming...

No, this wasn't going to be like the last time. He shook himself and stood up.

Casey walked back over, zipping up her jacket over her dress.

"We gotta go. Quickly."

"Why's that?"

"I had to threaten the bartender with my gun and he may have called the cops."

"Let's split then, sugar." Jack said with a wink.

"Here we are!" Casey threw her jacket down onto a chair. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Humble?"

They had reached the second floor and a dining room stretched out for most of it. The high domed glass ceiling was a little cracked and dusty, but moonlight still shone through. Large windows, only two of which were smashed, showed views of the river which glittered outside. Many tables and chairs were piled in a heap, in one corner of the room. One table was set out in the centre, with eight or so mismatched chairs.

"The only useful thing I keep in here is..." Casey pulled out a bottle from a wooden crate. "Booze!"

She shook up the bottle until the cork popped off, then took a swig and cheered.

"What are we celebrating?"

"The chaos we created together was truly beautiful." She smiled.

"I could not agree more." He grinned.

They both clinked imaginary champagne glasses and carried on taking long drinks from the bottles.

Jack was woken by a dull thud.

He stirred slowly, his head spinning. He quickly looked at his hands. Clean.

He sighed in relief.

The dull thud had been Casey falling out of bed onto the floor.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her head.

"Ouch..." she muttered.

Jack blinked a couple of times until his vision focused, then looked around him. He was in a bedroom, a room in the hotel. There was blood on one of the walls, which caused him to panic for a second, but it looked old and dry. He noticed a purple jacket thrown on the floor and recognised it as his own.

With a little trepidation, he looked down at his body, sprawled on the couch.

His shirt was unbuttoned a little and his belt was loose but apart from that, and his pounding headache, he was fine.

Casey stood up carefully and Jack realised she was in her underwear. He felt his face flush and pretended he wasn't looking.

She staggered forward a few paces, covering her eyes.

"Bright... lights..." She muttered.

"You want me to close the curtains?"

Casey jumped. "Jesus! Oh... hey. I-I'll do it."

She wandered over to the window, shielding her eyes and pulled the tattered curtains across. It didn't make much difference but she seemed relieved.

She walked back over to him and was about to speak when she clutched her head and groaned.

"Ah, my head! That hurts... fuck me!"

Jack tried not to laugh at the expression.

"Wait..." She looked at him, her expression both worried and flirtatious. "Did... you?"

He coughed to cover his laughter. "No... no, I don't think I did."

"Okay... right." Casey ran her hands through her hair distractedly. "I'm gonna go have a shower."

Jack nodded and she walked out of the room. He heard her bare feet padding along the floorboards until they stopped; a door creaked open, then another, and the sounds of dripping water came down the hall.

Somewhere in the hotel, a clock chimed. Counting the number of chimes, Jack realised it was noon.

He cursed and jumped up. He hurriedly straightened his clothes and hair. He found a piece of paper and scribbled a note.

On his way out, he walked past the room where Casey was showering. He stopped, and glanced through the crack in the door. Steam filled the room and Jack was struck with the urge to walk in. He caught a glimpse of movement and looked away quickly. He sighed and left in a hurry.

Casey came back to the bedroom a few minutes later, disappointed to find it empty.

She found a crumpled piece of paper lying on her bed and picked it up. She read;

"Sorry to run out but I have to meet a gang leader and you know how impatient they can get. I had a great time, we should meet up again and create more chaos...

Keep safe sugar. J."

Casey smiled and pinned the note to her wall opposite her bed.

In the weeks and months that followed, that wall became filled with letters from Jack. Some were stained with makeup, blood or something else, but all were in his spikey handwriting, and all were signed "Keep safe sugar. J."


	3. Pretty Damn Close

Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Pretty damn close

"And we'll all dance alone to the tune of your death

And we'll love again, we'll laugh again

We'll cry again, and we'll dance again

And it's better off this way

So much better off this way

I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed!"

\- I Never Told You What I Do For A Living - My Chemical Romance

About a week later, Casey turned on her tiny, half broken television and threw herself into a chair. After a day of planning a museum heist, she settled down with a cup of Pot Noodles and some beer.

The news was on and a report began on what was being described as a drug deal gone wrong. Blood was spattered on the walls of an apartment and the reporter, looking slightly nauseated, was standing in front of one of the walls.

Casey noticed something on the wall behind him and when he stepped back, she read a message written on the wall in blood;

"C. Dinner? Tonight 8. Your place. - J."

She smiled in delight and checked her watch. 7:58. Damn the late news reporting! Couldn't they be more prompt?

She swore and threw down her noodles. She downed the beer and changed her clothes quickly to a short lacey black dress with a belt and black boots, threw on some red lipstick and went downstairs.

Jack was standing in the lobby, having an animated conversation with one of Casey's henchmen. He stopped when she reached the top of the cracked wooden staircase and made her way down, and stared.

"Hi."

"Good evening." He grinned.

"Shall we?" She held out her arm.

He took it. "We shall."

"Keep an eye on the place, boys. Remember to lock all the doors." Casey called over her shoulder to the men as they walked out.

They gave several grunts of acknowledgement.

"So... where are we headed?"

"I heard... through some of my contacts that Tony Vincenzo's funeral is tonight. I was thinking, perhaps, that we could, y'know, crash it?"

"Do you mean that literally or...?"

He cackled. "Oh, we do think alike, don't we?"

The funeral march continued along slowly. People's sobs echoed through the silent street. The only two who weren't moved were two figures standing at the back, one in a dark suit, large scarf and sunglasses, the other in a short dress, and bright red lips.

"You look very handsome." Casey whispered in Jack's ear as they walked slowly along with the others.

"You don't look too bad yourself, sugar."

"Y'know, I remembered some more about the other night."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah... we didn't go all the way but we sure as hell came pretty close."

His eyes widened behind his oversized sunglasses.

"How... how interesting."

The procession reached the cemetery and the coffin was lifted from the hearse and carried through the gates. Helicopters with searchlights buzzed overhead.

"Aww, they're looking for us." Casey said, sounding flattered.

They hung at the back of the group, arm in arm and hung behind after everyone had left, trying to look as sad as possible.

"I brought wiiine." Jack said in a sing-song voice, pulling a small bottle out of his inside pocket and throwing off his sunglasses.

"Oh thank god, I didn't think I could stand there looking miserable anymore."

Casey panicked when a searchlight swooped over them and hid behind the mausoleum.

She acted innocent while Jack placed dynamite around it.

"Jack... there's a warden coming." She hissed suddenly through gritted teeth.

"Oh, dear. That's not good."

"What do we do?!"

"Um... uh..."

"I've got an idea. Come here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Kiss me."

"What?!"

"Just do it. He'll get uncomfortable and leave."

"There is no way I am-"

The cop shone a torch in their direction. Jack panicked and kissed her.

"Come on, that's not gonna convince anyone." Casey whispered.

Jack growled softly and pushed her against the wall. His hands pinned hers above her head against the cold stone wall.

It could've been minutes or hours later, Jack stepped back, breathless.

They stood in silence for some time.

"Can we blow stuff up now?" Casey asked hesitantly.

"That's a very good idea." He sounded relieved.

They walked to the cemetery gates and pushed the button. The explosions lit up the sky and revenge felt good but it wasn't as fun as last time.

"Listen... I uh, I gotta go. Gotta be up early tomorrow morning for a bank thing so..." She said awkwardly.

"Right. Alright. Want me to walk you back?" Jack offered hopefully.

"It's okay. I'll see you around, or something."

"Okay."

"Good night then."

"Night."

Casey walked down the street and kept slowly walking until she eventually reached her bed. She collapsed onto it and lay face down but she wasn't tired. Her mind raced with thoughts of Jack.

"Shit... God dammit!" He sat on a bench in the cemetery, his head in his hands. "You came on too strong, you've scared her off... But she was the one who flirted at the bar, not me. And she asked me to kiss her... she encouraged me for god's sake!"

He pulled out his notebook and poured his thoughts out onto the pages as he usually did; every single thought no matter how unspeakable, dangerous or disturbed it was. Drawings helped too and he found his pen forming the shape of someone who looked an awful lot like Casey.

"Dear Casey,

Haven't seen you in a while... not since the cemetery. I'll be at the Red Box bar on Saturday night if you wanna meet.

Keep safe, sugar. - J."

"That'll have to do." Jack said to himself, clearing the many other crumpled pages off of his desk and putting the completed letter into an envelope.

Casey's phone rang. It was early on a Saturday morning and she was jumpy after not sleeping for four days.

"Hello?"

"Casey." A gruff voice said sternly.

"Yep." She said, losing interest instantly at the voice and picking at her fingernails.

"Stop picking at your nails and listen up."

She swallowed and sat up straighter, fixing her clothes. She'd also forgotten they'd put cameras in her room.

"He needs you to go the museum next Friday night during the Diamond Festival, take the best they got and pull the wool over the curator's eyes." The man said, speaking in code in case their conversation was being monitored.

Just as she opened her mouth to reply there was a knock at her door.

"Come in."

The henchmen she'd stolen from the Joker walked in, holding an envelope.

"This came for you, miss."

"Thanks Jerry." She winked.

Casey torn open the envelope and read the letter. She smiled and stood up.

"So you know what to do. And you know what'll happen if you don't?"

"Yeah, yeah. Bye!" She said carelessly, tossing the phone down and running to her closet to pick out an outfit.

The Red Box was an unusual place. People like the Joker and Casey felt more at home there than at any other bar in Gotham so it was quite a popular joint.

Casey sat in the corner, a drink in her hand. Psychedelic music was playing and people were laughing and talking loudly but she heard little. She stared at the glass in her hand and the voices hissed in her ears.

"Dead... She's dead... Your fault..."

"Mom..." Casey whispered, her voice choking up as tears spilled down her cheeks.

The memory of a young man's voice echoed around her. "Keep still... Keep still! Now, nice and slow... No, no! Stop it, D- no! No hands... Eyes on me, alright? Never take your eyes off of me, and I'll never take my eyes off of you, agreed?"

"Casey! You alright?"

It was Jack, sitting beside her.

She jumped violently, flinching away from him. He touched her arm gently, the ringing in her ears faded slowly.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

"Oh, jeez." Casey wiped the tears from her face, looking at them on her fingers in apparent surprise.

"What's the matter, hmm? You high?"

"No! Not now anyway..." She said indignantly.

"Well then what is it? I walk in and you're sitting there all spaced out, crying and muttering to yourself-"

"It's personal, okay?" She snapped.

He sighed impatiently and walked around her, jumping up and down a little but still bending down so they were face to face.

"C'mon sugar! You can tell little ol' me, surely?" He flicked his tongue along his scars.

"I can't. It's too hard." She sniffed, drying her eyes.

"Too hard?"

"Right... Well, what isn't too hard to talk about?"

"Drinking?"

"That's what you wanna do?" His grin widened.

"Definitely."

Hours passed. Casey knocked back another shot of tequila and winced.

She sat at the bar with Jack when a man came over and leaned against the bar beside her. He was strangely dressed in a red suit with purple hair and shoes.

"Hey there, sweets." He said, looking her up and down.

"Hi." Casey smiled, her vision slightly blurred.

Jack looked up from his glass and looked between them awkwardly.

"That's a lovely dress you've got on." He touched her shoulder with one pale hand.

"Thanks."

"Let me buy you a drink."

Casey opened her mouth to respond but Jack nudged her subtly. She sighed and looked down at the empty glasses in front of her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Sorry... I-I gotta go."

She grabbed her bag and walked out. Jack stood, nodded at the man and followed her outside.

"Y'know a year ago I would've been all over that guy. I would've gotten even more drunk with him and to be honest I probably would've been stripping in the bathroom by now." Casey said quietly, running a hand through her hair.

He said nothing, just looked at her.

"D'you know why? It's a stupid reason. The most stupid... It's because of you, I think. Because we hang out together and it'd be awkward. I just did it so I wouldn't make it awkward for you."

Jack looked down at his shoes, and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

They both knew the real reason but just didn't say it. It was too soon, too awkward. That night they ran around the city hand in hand causing chaos, screwing with the police and having as much fun as was possible at the time for them. It continued on for two weeks straight and Casey completely lost track of everything in the world except for her and Jack and their next adventure together.


	4. Neon Pink Pain

The sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtains. Casey stirred, and rolled over. A groan made her open her eyes.

It was Jack, coming out of a deep sleep. She was lying on his chest. She blinked slowly, then noticed something red out of the corner of her eye. She flinched and sprang off of the bed.

"What the fuck?!" She stared at herself critically in the mirror, turning her head from side to side.

"What is it, sugar?" Jack asked with a groan, sitting up slowly, one hand on his aching head. Then he looked up at her and saw.

"...Oh."

"It's red!"

"It is red."

"My hair is red!"

"It is." He stood up, stretching.

"I don't know how I feel about it... It's so bright..." She touched her hair tentatively.

"Well, I think it looks gorgeous." Jack smiled charmingly.

"That would come across as way less creepy if you were wearing a shirt." Casey glanced him up and down with a smirk.

He pouted mockingly and walked to the balcony.

He leant against the metal railings, a cigarette in one hand.

Casey slowly walked out and stood beside him, her back to the city.

"What's the name of this hotel again?"

"Something Italian, I think." He took a long drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"Only in times of stress." He said with a bitter chuckle.

"What're you stressed about, Jack?" Casey asked in a jokingly soothing voice.

"Just mob stuff, y'know. Those civilised bastards've got smart friends sometimes." He lied, looking down at the streets below.

She nodded, noticing the lie but deciding not to persist. She stretched, running her hands through her crimson hair.

"What day is it?" She asked slowly.

"Um... I have no idea."

She chuckled. "Great."

The door was opened again and she walked back into the room. She searched around for something that might tell her the date until she eventually found her phone.

Thursday.

60 missed calls.

Oh no.

"So you're telling me we've been fucking around this city for two weeks straight?"

"You told me you wanted to drink... That's the last thing I can really remember." Jack said into a cup of coffee.

"It's not quite my record but still it's pretty high up there."

"Your record?"

"6 months." Casey poured more sugar into her own cup.

"Wow. That's impressive."

"Yeah. I did almost die though, but it was fun. I think."

He smiled a little, pulling his scarf a little higher over his scars.

"So are you gonna keep the hair?" He reached out and wound a strand around his finger.

Casey leaned her head to the side instinctively, so her cheek brushed against his hand. "I don't know... maybe. Do you like it?"

His hand froze against her cheek. "I do."

He looked at her and their eyes locked for a couple of seconds then she moved away. Jack hastily returned his hand to his coffee cup.

"Remind me how we ended up here?" Casey asked.

They were standing at the bar of a nightclub in the Narrows. It was packed with sweaty drunk people jumping up and down to electronic music.

"Someone wanted to dance their hangover away. Because loud repetitive music is gonna make us feel miles better." Jack said sarcastically,

"Okay shut up, it's my fault."

"You wanna go?"

"What am I even wearing?" She looked down at her outfit in disgust.

"You went shopping. By shopping I mean you raided an department store and a security guard lost his eye."

She sniggered. "Oh yeah, that was fun."

"I think we should go."

They eventually pushed their way through the crowds of people and out onto the street. Casey inspected her clothes under the orange glow of a streetlight.

Jack looked at the neon pink tank top, tiny denim shorts and stiletto heels. "Your place?"

Jack and Casey stood side by side in the elevator on the way up to the second floor. The elevator was so ancient and slow it was taking quite a long time.

She leaned against the metal wall, beer bottle in hand.

"Do you remember," she cleared her throat, giggling. "Do you remember that one time when we kissed?"

"I do remember that. That was pretty fun." Jack slurred.

"You wanna do it again?" She took an unsteady step closer.

He looked her up and down. "Definitely."

Casey put the beer bottle down and slowly placed her hands on his broad shoulders.

The door crashed open. Sobering up quickly, Casey pushed Jack's shirt off his shoulders while he pulled down the zip of her dress.

"Beautiful." He whispered as it fell to the floor.

Suddenly they were pulled apart. Jack watched as Casey sank to the ground, a tissue soaked in chloroform over her mouth and nose. He tried to grab her, to fight back, but soon everything went black for him as well.

"You're just too good to be true..."

Darkness. Everywhere.

"I can't take my eyes off of you..."

Pain. All she felt was pain.

"You'd be like heaven to touch..."

Someone's hot breath against her face.

"I wanna hold you so much..."

Was she dead? Was this real?

Casey's eyes opened slowly. The fluorescent lights blinded her for a few seconds and she blinked, looking around her. Her shoulder and chest felt damp but she didn't look down at them, she knew if she did the numbness would stop and be replaced by pain. She was distracted by a white coated man backing away from her with a blood covered knife.

A choked gasp escaped her lips and she screwed her eyes shut tight. What had he done to her?! She felt drops falling from her face to her collar, dripping down her chest onto the chair she was tied to. It must be my own blood, she thought.

A door opened somewhere nearby and someone walked in. The door clanged shut loudly, it sounded heavy, as if made of metal or thick wood. Footsteps approached, slowly coming closer.

"Is she awake now?" A voice asked.

Her head felt so heavy. She couldn't recognise the voice over the others whispering in her mind. She only recognised the voice as that of a man.

Was it the Joker?

Her thoughts ran wild.

Had he done this to her? Did he care about her at all? Was he really just as crazy as the Mob said? Maybe he'd gotten to know and befriended her just to torture and kill her.

All of a sudden, a pair of lips were pressed against her own. She did the only thing she could think of and responded. A hand held the back of her head and kissed her for a few seconds. Then, pain. A sharp slap across her face. She winced. It hurt more than it should, why?

Her eyes shot open and blinked furiously. It wasn't Jack. It wasn't the Joker.

It was far worse than that.

"You've been kissing him, haven't you? You're probably thinking about him right now... God, I can't believe you could just betray me like this, after all I've done for you? After what I helped you become?! And this is how you repay me?!" He raged.

"I'm sorry, Max."

"You're not. Not yet." He said threateningly.

Her mouth went dry.

Max leaned his hands on Casey's knees, his thin handsome face close to hers. "Listen to me."

She dropped her eyes to the floor.

"Listen to me!" He growled furiously. "That man doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anything or anyone, okay? He's insane. The only person he looks out for is himself. He can't take care of you like I can. He doesn't know you like I do."

Max straightened up, and paced around her chair, still twitching with rage. Casey watched him, fear in her eyes.

"It's like you want me to punish you. That musician was the reason we put the cameras in your room in the first place. Also because I wanted to see you but honey, you can't be trusted. Maybe we should send you back to the Mob..." Max said bitterly.

"No! Please, no." She begged. "I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want me to."

"Well you didn't, did you? We make a simple phone call and give you very clear instructions and what do you do?!" He stormed around the small room. "You run off with that *freak* for days on end, doing God knows what! What if you had gotten hurt? Or gone off the rails again? What would you do without me to help you? Go back to the way you were when you got out of Arkham? Hmm?" He held her face roughly with one hand. "You wanna go back to fucking for money, do you?" He whispered.

"No..." A single tear fell down her cheek.

"So then you do what I tell you. No more disappearances or cheating. I'll always find out. Always. The only man for you is...?"

"You." She said in something barely over a whisper.

"That's right. Good girl." He kissed her and smiled. "My little Destroya, so beautiful."


	5. Strawberry Sensation

Chapter 5

The music echoed in the Joker's head. He slowly regained consciousness for the fifth time in the past few hours. His head ached so badly, he could barely see as the door was flung open and people walked in. Someone was thrown onto the floor and he turned his head slightly to look.

A body curled up in a foetal position on the floor, the face turned away from Jack. Bright red hair, arms and legs that looked pale and painfully thin in the harsh florescent lights of the room. The whole body shook with violent sobs while blood pooled on the floor, soaking the hair and grey tank top.

A man in a grey suit stood over her, an expression of disappointment on his face. He glanced at another man in a white lab coat and nodded.

"The other side now, huh? So you two can be matching." Max looked between Casey and Jack.

The white lab coat stepped forward, the bloody knife still in his hand and pulled Casey up by her tank top. Suddenly, screams echoed around the room and the knife was wrestled from the man's hands. He was pushed against the wall and the knife forced against his neck. The screaming only died away when the man's head hit the floor. Casey sank to the ground in front of the body, her hands in her damp hair, hysterical tears falling down her cheeks.

"Now why did you have to go and do that? He was our best doctor!" Max pulled Casey to her feet and shook her shoulders. He looked disgusted at the blood in her hair and on her clothes. "My god, you've gone feral. After all the training, you were showing signs of real promise, real sophistication and skill... Now he's been a bad influence on you." He gestured to the Joker. "I always told you, violence and death can be beautiful but only if it's done with discipline. You're a weapon. My weapon. Not some mad dog like him. You're different, sweetie. You're not like him, so stop pretending to be."

Max clicked his fingers and men advanced on Casey and Jack and soon they both blacked out.

"And the weather outside is delightful this fine Friday morning, sun with slight chances of clouds later on this evening..."

The radio prattled on and Jack groaned, reaching across and turning it off. He rolled over and was met by the smooth bare back of Casey. He gently touched the groves in her spine and she shivered and turned over to face him.

Shock passed across his face as much as he tried to hide it. A large cut extended on the left side of her mouth, one half of the Glasgow smile, like his.

"Your face..."

Casey nodded slightly. "Yeah... 'At 'as my, uh, my punishment."

"Does it hurt?"

She nodded again, trying not move her mouth and disturb the dark stitches.

"I got mine when I was a kid so... Jeez, I'm so sorry sugar, this is all my fault." He sat up, leaning on one hand.

"No! No it's not. It's my fault!" She said, wincing when she stretched her mouth too far. She forced herself to sit up too, but fell back down, weak from the blood loss.

"We should get you to the hospital. Gotham General isn't far-"

"No! I can't go to the hospital." Casey was reduced to mumbling. "They know me there. I-I can't go back."

He touched her face gently. "Please, Case. You've lost so much blood, it can't be good-"

"No." She said stubbornly, folding her arms and looking down.

Jack sighed wearily, running his hands through his partially green hair, his face free from makeup except for some darkness around his eyes.

"Who was that guy who was talking to you?"

She looked up. "You saw that?"

"Some of it. He was talking to you so weird, like he was in charge of you..."

"Well, he is my boss. Sort of."

"Sort of?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's a very long story."

Jack recognised something in her face and stood up, a range of emotions coming quickly at once.

"Oh my god... I can't believe this..." He walked around, his hands behind his head. "How could I have been this stupid?!"

"What is it?" Casey said as best she could, propping herself up on pillows.

"You're in love with him!" The frustration in his voice was clear.

"What? No I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. It's so damn obvious."

"You're not- you've got it all wrong." She stammered.

"Have I? Tell me, if he has cameras on you and watches you day and night and controls everything you do, why don't you just leave, hmm? Running around with me, you could just say, let's not go back to my place!"

He sat down on the bed, seething silently.

Instead of providing a proper answer, Casey grabbed him and kissed him. He responded forcefully, forgetting how much pain she was and pushing her away hard.

She sat back heavily on the cushions, clutching her face and wincing. After a minute she moved over to the side of the bed and picked up the hotel stationery.

She wrote on the notepad:

_He would come after me if I ran away with you. I didn't want you to get hurt_.

She held the note up for Jack.

"Is it too sore to talk?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Sorry..." He said, still sounding a bit reluctant.

Casey wrote:

_He worked at Arkham when I was there as a kid. I left when I was 17._

"He was your shrink?"

She took care writing, her small spiky handwriting beginning to take up the whole page.

_Not exactly. He was just an intern at first. He watched me a lot from the observation room above my bedroom. He eventually got to have a couple of sessions with me, which he spent seducing me. I was about 15 or 16. No one found out, he was very clever about covering it up._

Jack said nothing, only looked sympathetically at her.

_When I turned 17, my father came to visit me. I thought he'd died. I knew that he'd abused my mother so I slit his throat. Max saw the whole thing and said he'd protect me but I had to leave Arkham and come with him. He helped me escape but I ran away from him and lived on the streets for a while, slept around to get some money, ended up getting picked up by Tony Vincenzo and the Mob. Then two years ago I come back to my apartment and Max is there. He takes me to the hotel, says I live there now forever. He trains me on killing with discipline, less brute force than the Mob taught me, more speed and agility. He tells me who to kill and what to take and I do it. I never question it. Until I met you_.

Jack finished reading and touched her face gently, sighing.

He noticed her eyelids drooping, "You should sleep, sugar."

"Mmm-hmm." Casey said sleepily, turning onto her side.

The Joker bit his lip as she drifted off to sleep. "That's it, Casey... sleep..."

"Sugar... Honey, wake up!"

Casey jerked awake.

"Huh... Where...?" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"We are in Aberdeen, Washington." Jack said.

"Okay... As opposed to Scotland... wait, what?!"

"You heard right, babe. I stole a car and drove us here."

"How long did that take?"

"About forty-four hours, eighteen minutes, twenty-two seconds."

"...You drove three thousand miles in two days?"

"Yeah, I guess I did." He grinned widely.

He seemed on edge, manic and hyperactive, pacing up and down in front of her, jumping at any tiny sound. His hair was freshly green and his makeup was hurriedly applied. Casey suddenly noticed he had a butcher's knife in his hands and a shotgun slung over his shoulder, a handgun in his back pocket and another in his blazer.

"Why are you so heavily armed?" She asked slowly, sitting up and looking around

.

They were in a building which seemed to be an old abandoned elementary school.

The room they were in was an old nurse's room and Casey was lying on the examining table in her black underwear. The only light was coming from a flickering florescent bulb in the corner of the room.

"You said he'd follow you, right? Well, I'm gonna be ready for 'im."

He turned to look at her and hesitated with his pacing, glancing down her body for a few seconds. Then he quickly flung open the door and walked out.

Casey pulled on her pair of shorts and a shirt from a bag in the corner and followed him, limping in her bare feet.

"Jack..." She called, squinting through the darkness.

Her feet rubbed against pieces of paper and patches of carpet as she tiptoed along the corridor, the only light to guide her coming from inside the nurse's office.

"Jack?" Casey called again.

"Yes?" He appeared out of nowhere, moving so she spun around and ended up inches away from her face.

She bit her lip. "Do you have any food?"

Casey sat cross legged on the examining table. Jack stood opposite in the doorway, shotgun in hand.

She unwrapped the pop tart and took a small bite. Strawberry Sensation was her favourite flavour, she wondered if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence.

She had to break the pop tart up into tiny pieces to eat with the least amount of pain possible, so it took quite a long time for her to finish.

"Are you gonna stand there all night?" Casey asked quietly.

"Probably."

"Come here a second."

"Why?"

"Just come here."

Jack walked over and Casey tugged feebly on the cuff of his blazer until he sat down beside her.

"It's okay, Jack."

He sighed and she saw the tiredness in his face. She lay down and he looked at her, made a disgruntled face and lay beside her.

They both stared up at the mould on the ceiling and Jack listened to Casey's breathing begin to slow as she fell asleep.

Her head slumped to the side so she was facing him, a tiny smile on her face.

"Good night Casey." He whispered.

"Night Jack." She replied in a sleepy mumble.


	6. Here's Johnny

Chapter 6

"D'you know if there's anywhere around here I can take a shower?" Casey asked casually, sitting on her hands to stop herself picking at her scar.

"Uh, there's, like, an old outhouse thing outside." Jack scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his shotgun.

"Okay." She said quickly, grabbing a towel and heading for the door.

"Wait, wait, wait." He grabbed her arm. "I'll come with you."

"Oh, really?" She smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll wait outside." He said firmly, but couldn't look her in the eye.

"_Sure_."

Closing the door most of the way behind her, Casey got undressed and walked over to the large cracked mirror in her bare feet. She looked at her reflection for a few seconds, running her hands over the bruises and cuts on her skin. Then she turned and stepped into the shower. The grout was crumbling away and there was unpleasant looking mould on the floor but she turned the switch up hopefully. There was a slight rumbling sound and suddenly freezing cold water shot out at her. She gave a little scream of shock.

Jack had been on high alert outside, weapons at the ready, when he heard the scream. He charged in, but the only person he saw was Casey.

She laughed, "The water just scared me a little."

His eyes widened and he spun around one hundred and eighty degrees so he was facing away from her.

"Oh, come on, Jack. Be mature."

"I'm sorry for coming in. I-I-I just thought that maybe something had happened to you." He said mechanically through gritted teeth.

"I'm all good in here." He heard the shampoo bottle opening. "A little lonely though."

"Well that's just tough. Because I am definitely not coming in." He emphasised the "t" in each word, which he'd grown to doing in times of stress.

"I think you want to."

"It doesn't matter what I want. What matters is keeping you..." He hesitated, his hands twitching, "safe."

"I'm totally safe in here. Especially if you come in to keep a closer eye on me..."

He turned his head slightly and glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of her crimson hair.

"Dammit..."

He walked to the mirror and laid down his weapons, reaching uncertainly for his shirt.

Casey turned the handle on the shower and the water turned from freezing cold to a surprisingly pleasant hot temperature. She rinsed the bubbles from her hair and turned to see Jack standing right in front of her.

"Hi." She said, pleased.

"I must be crazy."

"Why would you be crazy?" She ran her hand teasingly down his chest.

"In here with you... you're still recovering from-"

"Then we're both crazy. Let's be crazy together. Now, shut up and kiss me already."

He did as he was told and pressed her against the off white tiles as the steam rose up and surrounded them in the tiny room with the cracking tiles and the mould on the ceiling.

That night, Jack lay beside her, but sleep didn't come. He'd lost control.

He cursed himself over and over. It could've ended up like last time, it could've all go downhill.

But it didn't.

It could have, but it didn't.

Suddenly a noise broke in on his thoughts. It was Casey. Soft groans came from her. Jack turned onto his side and leaned up on his elbow to see if she was hurt. Her eyebrows were knitted together in anger or pain, he couldn't tell which. Her arms twitched and her expression changed to one of fear.

"No... no please..." She mumbled sleepily, turning her head from side to side, lifting her hips up. "Let me go... please I-"

Then she started screaming. Jack shook her until she opened her eyes, saying her name.

Her screams died away as she woke up, but she was shaking violently. "Hold me..." She collapsed against his chest.

"It's okay, sugar..." He flicked his tongue across his scars uneasily. "Everything is okay."

She slowly fell back to sleep in his arms and he lay her down carefully, then walked out to the parking lot for a cigarette.

When Casey woke the next morning, she was alone. After a breakfast of pop tarts and Kool Aid, she went to find Jack. She found him, sitting on a partial wall outside, finishing the last of a packet of cigarettes.

"Did you sleep at all?" She asked after a minute, sitting down beside him.

He flicked his lighter, "Nah, not really."

The dawn light was just starting to creep up over the horizon. He was halfway through his cigarette when they both heard it.

A low distant rumbling.

"What is that, thunder?"

Jack spotted it first. The helicopter in the distance.

"Get inside."

She couldn't hear him over the growing sound of the helicopter. "What?"

"Get inside now!" He shouted, pushing her towards the door.

Casey sat on the bed, listening to the rumbling growing nearer and nearer. It passed overhead and she braced herself, but nothing came. Then when it appeared in the sky beside the house she saw something drop from the window down onto the ground.

The blast shook the foundations of the tiny building. Casey was thrown onto the floor, and she quickly covered her face with her arms as the windows smashed into a thousand pieces.

Once the ringing in her ears had stopped she slowly raised herself from the floor, amid the broken glass and peeked out of what had been the window. There was a smoking crater outside where the device had been dropped. This wasn't fun, like when her and Jack had blown up that nightclub, or even the Vincenzo's mausoleum. This was scary. And she only liked to be scared by the Joker.

As she watched the helicopter slowly start to land, Jack ran in.

He sounded a little out of breath. "Guys are coming... take these..." He threw some weapons on the floor. "You barricade the door. I'll hold them off."

"Okay." She stood up and walked straight to him and kissed him, hard, because she was afraid this kiss could be their last.

A crash somewhere close by made him jump.

"Okay." He kissed her cheek. "I'll see ya, sugar!"

The waiting was the worst, she was sure. Every yell could be Jack's, every shot fired could be going through his chest. She paced the box room, guns in hand, praying any second for things to go quiet and Jack to knock on the door and tell her everything was okay.

As the Joker fought his way through, throwing a punch to his left and stabbing to his right, he didn't notice a man in a dark trench coat slipping through the door and heading inside.

"Casey..."

A quiet voice hissed through the door.

Her stomach flipped.

A loud bang sounded on the door. Then another.

What was that? Someone slamming another person's head against the door?

Then she saw it.

The blade of an axe came through the door. It hit again and again until the man stuck his head through the door.

Despite Casey's terror, the only thought that came into her head was, "_Please don't say here's Johnny!_"

Soon the old wooden door was more or less completely in pieces.

Max stood among the shards of wood and slowly raised his head to face her.

"There you are." He sounded weary, almost old.

A knife clutched in one hand, Casey cowered in the corner like a trapped rabbit being stared down by a vicious snake.

"You're coming home with me."

She said nothing, only trembled.

"Something's different about you, something's changed..."

He walked closer. She tightened her grip on her knife.

"Come on Casey..." He reached out and touched her hand and the knife fell to the floor.

She quickly pulled out the hand gun from her pocket and cocked it, pointing it straight at Max.

"Don't come any closer!"

He looked hurt. "Casey... what's he done to you?"

"He hasn't done anything to me. I've decided this on my own. I wish people would stop thinking that I can't make any simple decision by myself because I can!"

Max slowly raised his hands in a surrender. "Okay... I see now you've made up your mind..."

Casey lowered the gun slightly. "I screwed him, you know."

The horror on Max's face made her almost drop the gun.

"...What?"

"You heard..."

She blinked and she was against the wall, his forearm pushed against her neck.

"You fucking slut!" He slammed her against the wall again and kissed her, biting her bottom lip so hard it bled.

Casey stretched her leg down and brought her knee up between his legs, he gasped and she was able to push him away across the room.

"You've got so much fight in you... I've always loved that about you." He said.

"If you love me so much, then why don't you let me go?!"

"I can't let you go... I can't go on without you! Don't you love me Casey?"

"I... I... want to be with him..."

"That clown can't provide for you like I can provide for you!"

"I don't need anyone to provide for me, I can look after myself."

"Oh please." He walked closer again. "When I found you, you were at a low level in the Mob, guys playing with you for cash... I saved you from that! Aren't you grateful?!"

"I would've got out by myself..."

"Don't be ridiculous, you were too far gone with your own personal habits by that point-"

"Shut up!" She screamed, pointing the gun at him again. "Don't talk about that!"

"Ohhh... that's still a sore subject for you I see."

"Stop it."

"You neglected a little detail when you spun out your tragic little life story for that clown, didn't you?"

"How did you-"

"You really think I'd let you guys go without keeping tabs on you? Please." He straightened the cuffs of his white shirt. "You know, you should really be more careful with what you write down. Anyone can go reading it."

She gave a little sigh of frustration, the gun still pointed at him, but she couldn't look him in the eye.

"You want that needle in your arm again, don't you?"

Casey threw the gun down with a yell of rage and launched herself at him.

He trumped her in sheer physical strength and the sleep deprivation wasn't helping her fighting ability.

Max was able to throw her to the ground. As she lay on her back, she felt his hands move up her thighs. She quickly kicked and made contact with something. He groaned and fell back. She sat up and they both sat opposite each other, panting a little.

"So you're not coming back… with me?"

Casey shook her head silently.

"And… and you don't love me?"

Another shake of the head.

"...Did you ever love me?"

"Not truly."

"Then I guess there's only one thing for it."

He grabbed the gun she'd dropped and opened his mouth wide.

"No, stop!" She yelled but he pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed throughout the building. Jack looked up from his fighting, everyone paused for a second.

The shock caused sobs to come in violent bursts. Her tears made stains on his jacket and his blood soaked her hair and clothes. A nearby noise made her jump and she took the gun from Max's hand. As she stood up, her legs trembled and nearly collapsed beneath her and she put a hand against the white wall to support herself. It left a dark bloody handprint behind.

She put the gun in her bag and gathered up her things. Casey snuck out of the door and ran across the fields and the forests until she found a car.

Jack hurried to the nurse's room, nervous to enter when he saw the remains of the door scattered around. A mixture of relief and disgust went through him when he saw the body.

He ran outside and yelled her name into the wind, but she was nowhere to be found.


	7. Cold Turkey

****Warning: this chapter contains references to drug use. If you're not cool with that, then please don't read.****

The 1975 - "Sex"

_And this is how it starts_

_Take your shoes off in the back of my van_

_Yeah my shirt looks so good,_

_When it's just hanging off your back_

_She's got a boyfriend anyway_

_There's only minutes before I drop you off_

_All we seem to do is talk about sex_

_She's got a boyfriend anyway_

_She's got a boyfriend anyway_

Chapter 7

For a while Casey could not stop crying. It impeded her driving a bit but no cops stopped her.

She drove until she found familiar road and dumped the car. She armed herself and set out down back alleys and underneath bridges to find what she needed.

On a street corner a man bumped into her.

"Oh sorry darlin', didn't see you there!"

She glared at him and started to walk on.

He caught up with her, walking by her side. "Hey, you alright?"

Casey still didn't say anything.

"You want me to hook you up with something?" He lowered his voice a little.

That made her stop and turn to face him. She gave a small nod.

He took her by the arm and led her down a nearby alley.

"What are you lookin' for?"

Casey looked up at him, at his surprisingly bright blue eyes. His hair was kind of long, reaching his collar. He was wearing a denim jacket and she could see tattoos peeking out of the neck of his shirt.

"Dope? White Lady?"

That name sent horrible jolts of recognition through her. She nodded again, silently.

"You don't talk much, do ya?" He chuckled. He was weirdly cute for a dealer. "How much cash you got?"

"Enough." She pulled out a wad of notes.

"Man, that's a lot of Franklins. What did you do, rob a bank?"

"Yeah."

She said it so seriously that he did a double take.

"Okay... Now, before we go anywhere, what's your name?"

"Jane." She stammered.

"Nice to meet you Jane, I'm Kris. Let's go get fucked up, huh?"

Everything became a bit hazy after that. Literally.

Her skin felt so warm and her mouth so dry, so she tried to quench it with whatever alcohol she could find. The hits kept coming and they felt so good, she'd been craving them for so long.

"Cold turkey almost killed me!" She yelled, laughing.

Kris grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders. "I know the feelin'."

But Casey had forgotten that with every high, there has to come a low.

She was staggering along the street in the pitch black, rain beating down on her head. She had no idea where Kris or any other of her new friends were. The street lamp in front of her warped and distorted itself, it freaked her out so she ran away from it. She stumbled across the road, and pushed through a gate.

Casey felt grass beneath her bare feet, soft and damp. It felt so nice, and she was so tired. Then the whole world swam and spun around her and she blacked out.

A car pulled into the drive near her at almost the exact moment she fell to the ground.

"Alfred, did you see that?"

"See what, Master Wayne?"

"It was a girl..."

He opened the car door and looked out. The rain was coming down so hard and fast he could barely see. He could just about make out a dark figure lying face down on the grass.

He got out of the car and ran over, his jacket over his head to shield him from the rain.

"Oh my god..."

He picked Casey up and carried her through the rain into the house.

She slept for four days straight. On the second day, Alfred came into the bedroom with a silver tray to find Bruce leaning against the door frame, looking at the girl.

"Have you seen her face, Alfred?" He said quietly.

"Yes, Master Wayne."

"Who could've done that to her?"

"Perhaps we'll be able to ask her when she wakes up, sir."

"And her arms..."

"I suspect, Master Wayne, that she may have done *that* to herself."

She woke up slowly, the light blinding her for a few seconds. She was lying on comfortable, clean sheets. Casey blinked and looked around.

"Jack?" She croaked in a feeble voice.

"Jack's not here."

Bruce walked in, holding something in his hands.

Casey looked startled and flinched away against the pillows.

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." He said gently, and walked over to the side of the bed. He sat down in a chair which was placed beside it.

"Who is Jack?"

"He's... he's a friend."

"Did Jack give this to you?" Bruce showed her the gun he was holding.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For protection."

"Against who-"

"Are you a cop?"

He smiled a little. "No, I'm not a cop."

"Who are you then?"

"Bruce Wayne."

Casey sat up a little in interest, ignoring how much it hurt. "I recognise that name..."

"You've probably heard of my parents."

"Oh yeah... that train thing." She stretched one hand behind her head and groaned a little. "Jesus, I'm starving."

"I'll go get you something."

"Thanks." She smiled.

When he walked back in, looking uncomfortably like Alfred carrying a silver tray, he found Casey lying on the floor beside the bed.

She tried to push herself up on her elbows but her arms were too weak and shaky.

"I was gonna jump out the window but..." She gestured to her fallen form, dressed in a torn white t shirt and denim shorts, the soles of her feet were bruised and bloody from the road.

Bruce sighed and picked her up, struggling slightly. He placed her back on the bed, and couldn't help but notice a hickey on her collar bone.

She saw where his eyes were and put her hand over it self-consciously.

He decided not to ask about it. She'd say if and when she was ready.

Over the hours that followed, the nausea was the worst. Then the dehydration that followed caused a couple of seizures. A doctor was called and she was hooked up to an IV.

Then the cravings came hard. She couldn't stay in the house, so she stayed somewhere with bright fluorescent lights everywhere with doctors and a kind lady who came to talk to her every day, even when she could barely speak with the shaking.

Sometime later, back at Wayne Manor, when Bruce walked in, Casey was sitting up and reading a book.

He sat tentatively at the edge of the bed. She put down the book and smiled. "Do you know what I just realised?"

"What?"

"I haven't washed properly in ages. And that's kind of gross."

"Didn't-"

"Yeah, they washed me there, but it's not the same."

"Sure, I'll get Alfred to draw you a bath."

"No." Casey said quickly, "I... I want you to do it."

Bruce turned away as she slipped into the warm water, not facing her until she was completely under the bubbles. She sighed happily, the smell of lavender and heat of the water easing her shakes a little.

Before she knew it, Bruce was kneeling beside her, his face close to her shoulder.

"Is the water okay?"

"Yeah... yeah thanks, it's lovely."

"That's good." He smiled.

Then he leaned in, and kissed her.

Casey responded at first, more out of gratitude than anything else, he'd done so much for her, and she couldn't think of any other way to repay him.

Bruce deepened the kiss, one hand holding her face gently. When his other hand started to move into the water, Casey pulled away.

"I'm not gonna have sex with you, Bruce." She said quietly.

He sighed deeply, hanging his head. "It's Jack, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I just- I wanna be with him."

"Then why aren't you?" He sounded a little annoyed, but also empathetic.

"He won't take me back now... after I just left like that. He's better off without me anyway."

"Now, that can't be true-"

The doorbell rang, and it echoed through the house.

"I should go get that."

"But, wouldn't Alfred-?"

"He's way out in the garden, he wouldn't hear it."

"Okay."

Casey didn't see Bruce again for about an hour, so she went looking for him.

"Bruce?"

She walked into the kitchen. Bruce was standing talking to a girl with straight brown hair.

"Oh, I didn't know you had company." She said when she saw Casey.

Bruce spun around and saw her standing there, a white towel around her.

"I'm just gonna go."

"Rachel, wait!"

"Goodbye, Bruce."

The door closed behind her. Bruce sighed, again, running a hand through his hair.

After a few moments, Casey walked over to him.

"So..." She said, folding her arms in front of her chest and looking him straight in the eye. "How long have you been in love with Rachel?"


	8. Lucky Cat

"A what?"

Alfred repeated his statement.

"You've gotta be kidding me. No way!"

"It is a custom, Master Wayne. The guests will be expecting-"

"I don't care, it's stupid!"

Casey wandered into the room in her bare feet with a bottle of nail polish in one hand.

"What's stupid?" She asked as she sat down.

Bruce spun around melodramatically. "Apparently it's tradition for a costume party to be held at Halloween! For adults! How ridiculous is that?"

Casey put her toes on the coffee table and started to paint her nails bright red. "It's okay, Alfred. I'll take care of this."

"As you wish, Miss Williams." He said with a nod and walked out.

"Bruce, come here."

The young man walked over and sat down beside her with a disgruntled sigh.

"Is a costume party really such a bad idea? Think of how creative some people could be with their costumes."

"But-"

"How creative." She said slowly and deliberately, looking him straight in the eyes.

His eyes lit up as they travelled up her legs.

"I'll be right back."

He got up and strode away and she heard him calling to Alfred to get the car ready.

After the nail painting was done, Casey laid down on the red velvet couch, stretching out on the cushions, and soon fell asleep.

She found herself thrown against a wall. She groaned and pushed herself to her feet and found a gun in one hand and a needle filled with a dark orangey substance in the other.

She jumped and threw the needle down. The gun still remained in her grasp and she gripped it with both hands; the hard metal felt so strong and familiar in her hands, made her feel powerful again. She hadn't felt powerful in so long. Not since she'd first met Jack and she'd beaten up those guards in front of him and the look in his eyes, of alarmed fascination, had made her smile.

Then suddenly, she winced as her back hit the ground and her head hit the wall, and this time looked to see who had pushed her. She blinked to clear her vision, the gun falling from her hands and saw The Joker standing in front of her in all his glory, almost taking her breath away. He looked older, his white makeup caked in lines on his forehead and under his eyes.

"You thought you could just leave... and that would be it?"

His voice sounded different, the pitch was a lot more varied. Casey thought it made him sound unstable.

"Jack-"

"Don't call me that!" He growled, and fired a handgun at her. The bullet went into the wall beside her head, just missing the top of her ear. "I am not that anymore after what you did."

"What are you then?" She asked, her voice sounding cocky, confident. She didn't feel scared, she didn't care about any threats made against her life. The only thing she cared about was her Jack, her Joker, wild as he may be.

He tossed a card down onto the ground and she grabbed it. It was a joker card.

"Ah, you're a wild card. Unpredictable, uncontrollable."

"You see, I... I lost control when you picked up and left me there, and I just never quite managed to get it back. So, now I am going to make... you... pay."

He stepped forward, leaned down and grabbed her by her throat in one swift motion. The knife played along her collarbone.

"Do it." Casey whispered. "Just fucking do it."

Blood dripped from a cut in her chest, she gasped as the incision was made. She reached for the gun she'd had, and held it in her right hand. She put it to his head and cocked it.

He looked at her, "Aren't you gonna do it?"

She swallowed. "I'd rather die."

The gun hit the ground yet again.

"You're so weak." His laugh echoed against the dark walls of the small room and made the tiny hairs on the back of Casey's neck stand on end, her pulse racing. "You always were..."

The cold metal pressed against her neck, but she pushed herself away from the wall with her one free hand, until her forehead rested against his. Glaring, he closed the distance between them. As she lost herself in the moment, he moved the knife and drove it into her stomach.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And as the blood spilled from her abdomen and pooled onto the ground below and choked up in her throat, she woke up, gasping for breath, and reaching out for someone that wasn't there.

"Casey!"

She followed the voice, to Bruce's room, one of the biggest bedrooms with a walk-in closet and chandelier.

"Happy Halloween."

He handed her a black bag.

"Thank you...?" She said, confused.

She opened it and threw the tissue paper aside. Then she pulled out the outfit that was inside.

"Oh my god..."

"There's going to be quite a few people there unfortunately. You don't have to come down, you can just stay up here if you want." Bruce watched as Casey walked into the closet and disappeared from view. "Most of them are completely harmless. You need to be careful who you talk to though. A lot of them tend to be very judgemental and will question you like cops. We might have to pretend your someone's niece or something because God knows what rumours they will come up with. After one round of champagne you will be my mail order bride from Mexico or something."

"Mexico? Why Mexico?"

Casey walked back into the room. Bruce stumbled over his words, staring.

Because of the ridiculousness of women's Halloween costumes, Casey's costume resembled lingerie. It was supposed to be a cat but it was barely recognisable apart from the ears and tail.

In one stride Bruce had crossed the room and was kissing her. The thought of Jack made guilt swirl in her stomach as she responded but it had been such a long time.

He lay her down on the huge king size bed and soon her costume was lying in different pieces all over the room.

Hours later, she sighed. "Now, I'm gonna have to go and buy a new costume."

"More fabric on this next one please." Bruce panted.

"Don't worry, I'll search far and wide to find one that isn't underwear."

He gave a little laugh, turned over onto his side and kissed her again.

"How lucky was I, out of all of the gardens to pass out in, you picked mine."

"Yeah..." Casey looked past him out of the window, to the darkening skyline of Gotham outside. "How lucky."

He'd been drinking. All he could think about was how angry he was, and how many weapons were at his disposal. And who to take his anger out on? There was no one else in his house, not even a rat to step on. It wasn't the sort of area where kids would come around knocking on doors trick-or-treating. They'd be too scared of being shot at.

Jack put down his glass and reached around for the bottle, accidentally knocking a book and some papers off of his desk. He sighed and reached down to pick it up.

The book fell open on his lap and it was full of drawings and notes, some disturbed, some poignant and thoughtful, even beautiful. When he reached the drawings from the past few months, it felt like a knot made of poisonous lead formed in his stomach. There were so many of Casey. Some he'd had to use his imagination for, some had actually happened. Casey lying on her stomach, kicking her legs behind her; sunbathing by a beach in California, in the shower, the water hiding most of her body except for a shock of red hair being held up with both hands as she washed it.

Swallowing down a shot of anger and misery, he threw the book down and walked out, to his weapons storage. He grabbed every gun he could easily find and loaded them all up. On his way back to his desk, his foot came in contact with a newspaper on the ground. On page 5, there was an article about the local billionaire Bruce Wayne.

"The Wayne kid drops out of Princeton for a mysterious woman, and holds huge Halloween party, but sorry folks, it's invitation only! Costume required."

"My invite must've got lost in the mail..." Jack said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "I'm sure they won't mind, as long as I come in costume."

He found himself laughing as he put on his makeup with his fingers, in a way he hadn't laughed since he'd blown up that nightclub with his favourite partner in crime by his side.


	9. Devil in Disguise

Trick or Trick

"Would you let me go already?"

"And you're sure you're alright?" He said again.

"Yes! God, you're like my mother."

Bruce squeezed her shoulders in reassurance.

"And you have the phone I gave you?"

Casey took it out of her bag and showed it to him.

"And if anything happens you call me."

"I know."

"I'll only be an hour at the most. And I know you'll send the FBI to come get me if I take any longer."

He smiled. "That's right."

"I do remember how to go shopping you know."

"Yeah, but this time it's without the guns and the drinking and the... other stuff." He glanced down, a hint of uneasiness on his face.

Casey's smile twitched a little and her relaxed, amused air dissipated slightly.

"I'd come with you, except I have to go to this god awful meeting about the company, and organize the arrangements for tonight and it's just-"

"I know, I know!" She repeated, catching his hands in her own and looking at him sincerely. "I'll be okay."

"I hope so." He said, nothing short of adoration in his voice and eyes when he leaned in.

Alfred interrupted them, the car keys rattling loudly in his hand.

As Casey was driven into town and around the various costume shops to find something she liked, Bruce ignored the disapproving glares and sighs of the other people in the meeting of Wayne Enterprises and put off ordering around the catering staff and the decorators, instead choosing to repeatedly text Casey to make sure she was alright.

When she did eventually find a costume that was suitable, she came out of the shop triumphant with her bag. She'd told Alfred to circle around for a bit in case she took a while, so she decided to stand and wait for him to return, filling the time by replying to Bruce's latest text.

She barely even recognized herself as she checked in the reflective window of the shop, new hair, new clothes, new woman, she hoped. But then all of that froze when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw what seemed to be a familiar face in the crowds of people walking past.

Instantly a name was being screamed repeatedly in her mind; one name over and over again. Panicking, she organised her bags and set off after the man. His hair was about an inch off of shoulder length and a dark blonde and brown color, the color she had always suspected Jack's hair would be if he'd let the green dye fade completely. He was walking with his hands in his pockets, looking down. Casey followed at a few meters distance, keeping her eyes locked on his back, ignoring everything else.

Eventually the loud blaring of a car horn brought her out of her trance. She covered up a scream as a car sped towards her and jumped out of the way, with the power and speed she'd forgotten she had. When she reached the other side of the road, and people had stopped staring at her, she looked around but the man had disappeared.

Then she caught a glimpse of someone down a side street and marched off after them. She was closer to them now, and tried to attract their attention with loud fake coughing but to no avail.

When she reached a street corner she stopped to see where the man was heading, and the phone Bruce had given her buzzed. She fished it out of her new bag and tapped out a quick reply.

Suddenly the siren of a police car blared loudly and the man, who had now crossed the road, stopped and turned back around, clearly trying to make this look natural.

As the cop car spun around the corner, the man abandoned all pretence and started to run. The car skidded to a halt close to Casey at the intersection and two cops jumped out. She watched as they both chased down the man and tackled him.

He was eventually thrown against the side of the car and handcuffed, and as his rights were read to him he looked up and around to where Casey was standing and with a horrific shock she recognized him. The long hair was shorter but the tattoos still showed out of the collar of his denim jacket.

He gave her a charming smile and as he was being pushed into the back seat of the car, he called out, "Hey Jane!"

Casey stood in horrified silence while he was driven away, winking at her out of the window as he went past. Her hands shook violently as she fumbled for her phone and found Bruce's number.

He answered almost instantly.

"Case?! What is it? What's happened? Where _are_ you!? Alfred's been driving around for an hour looking-"

He stopped speaking when he heard her sobs coming from the other end of the line.

"Case, baby. What happened?" Bruce said very gently.

In a shuddering voice she explained, and explained who Kris was, if that even was his real name, and what she's taken with him, and many months ago, how the other people had watched in horror as she'd filled the syringe twice as full as any of them ever dared.

It didn't take long for Bruce to find her, and she decided to try and distract herself by getting all dressed up in her new costume and helping out with the decorations for the Halloween Party.

Before long, the rich and beautiful started to file in. Casey was overwhelmed so she slipped on the mask that came with her costume, and kept mostly to the back rooms, with Bruce coming to check on her every few minutes.

"_You look like an angel, walk like an angel, talk like an angel_." He clicked a round into his shotgun, and slung his semi-automatic over his shoulder. "_But I got wise..._"

He sang quietly to himself, pushing his green hair back with his one free hand, "_You're the devil in disguise... Oh yes you are! The devil in disguise._"

He walked along through the grounds, through the dark, following the lights and the sounds of music.

"_You fooled me with your kisses. You cheated and you schemed. Heaven knows how you lied to me. You're not the way you seemed. You're the devil in disguise..._"

He snuck in through a back door. There were staff milling around but most of them were far too busy carrying trays of food and drink to notice him. He walked further along the corridor, armed to teeth, six foot something in his cheap purple suit and long coat.

He stood for a minute, adrenaline rushing through him, then looked around and someone caught his eye.

A girl standing in a white nurses outfit, and as she bent down to pick up a tray of champagne glasses, he couldn't help but stare. Then he felt guilty, quickly followed by another rush of anger.

"Why the fuck should I feel guilty when she was the one who left?" He muttered under his breath.

As he watched, the girl straightened up and a man came over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder in a protective kind of way. The Joker recognized him. He'd seen his face in the papers.

His hands twitched over his weapons.

"Blow 'em up... blow 'em all to hell."

He was distracted briefly when he noticed the woman looking straight at him, her eyes wide. She started to walk towards him.

"Oh great, a hostage. Here we go."

When she reached him, he cocked whichever gun was closest to hand, and held it up. Before she could do or say anything, he put a hand under her mask and over her mouth, and pulled her back along the corridor, into a cupboard under the stairs.

It was a tiny space, so there was very little distance between them. She seemed surprisingly calm, no screams.

"Now, here's how this is going to go down." He put the gun to her head. "I kill you..." He made a gunshot noise and she flinched. She was so close he could feel her shaking. "Then everyone else hears it and gets _allll_ scared. Then they run around for the pathetic little lives, and I go in with the big guns, hmm? How does that sound, sweetie?"

Her speech was muffled against his hand.

"What was that?" He removed his hand partially, the gun still against her head.

"Jack!"

His eyebrows knitted together, "How do you know my- ...Casey?"

He pulled off the mask and held her face in his two hands, the gun falling to the ground.

"Wha- what?!" His voice sounded almost hoarse. "Where did you go?"

"Here."

"The whole time?"

"Most of it."

He was about to ask another question when a voice interrupted him.

"Casey?"

"Who the hell's that?"

"Bruce." She whispered.

Jack remembered the man who'd had his hand on her shoulder. His throat tightened as he imagined him kissing her the way he'd been longing to, and touching her where he'd been dreaming about for months.

Bruce kept calling her name and they heard footsteps going upstairs above them.

"He cares about you." Jack said eventually.

"Yeah."

He looked down. "Is he the reason you stayed here?"

"What?"

"Are you and him, like, together?"

"No! We're not." She stepped closer and touched his cheek in reassurance and he flinched. "He's in love with someone else."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. He told me so himself."

"Okay..."

He ran his hands through his unwashed hair, all of the angry voices in his head slowly fading away, his remaining pulses of adrenaline making his hands shake.

"Jack..." Casey said quietly. "Why were you going to kill those people?"

She glanced at his heavily armed form, and in that second he wanted to fire and detonate everything he had.

"I don't know, I was pissed..."

"At who?"

"You, mostly."

She couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"That doesn't really-"

Suddenly the door burst open.

"Case- oh!"

It was Bruce.

"I didn't realize you had company."

It took all of Jack's willpower not to just shoot him right then and there.

"I'm gonna go." He squeezed past Casey, past Bruce, and started for the back door.

"Jack, wait!" She ran after him.

"For what?!" He wheeled around, waving his gun in the air. Bruce looked nervous. "I've waited long enough for you, Casey. I can't do it anymore!"

"Please, I can't do it without you!"

"You seemed to manage just fine without me for a whole _year_." He looked accusingly at Bruce. "I think you two will be alright on your own."

Casey watched Jack walk away.

"Was that the Jack you talked about?" Bruce asked quietly.

She bit her lip. "Yeah."

"Go after him, then."

"What?"

"Go on. Run after him."

She smiled. "As long as you go talk to Rachel."

"Can't make any promises." Bruce mumbled as Casey ran along the corridor and out into the garden after Jack.

She yelled his name after him a couple of times and, after a minute, caught up with him.

"Do you not have a toast to give or something?" He said bitterly.

"Can I not come with you?"

He stopped walking and turned to face her slowly.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"You just think it can go back to the way it was, just like that? You left me! For him!"

"Not for him..." Casey trailed off when she saw his dangerous expression, and took a step closer. "But you know I don't feel the same way about Bruce as I do about you."

His gaze rose up to meet her own and the rage that burned in his eyes shot right through her. In a moment, she was against the cold wall of a shed in the middle of the grounds.

The impact made her gasp a little.

Jack remembered his weapons and his hand twitched but he stopped himself. She tried to lean in but he moved away, turning his back on her.

"Alright." He said eventually. "You can come with me."

She looked delighted.

"But keep those _hands_ to yourself."


End file.
